Read Online Pig Latin--Not Just for Pigs! by Kate McMullan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kate McMullan
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Huntsman’s Path.
Wiglaf stuck a long stick through the knot on his blanket so that he might carry it on his shoulder. His load was light, and he was glad.
Erica’s trunk was not so light. Along with her Sir Lancelot tapestry and her Sir Lancelot armor, she had packed her Sir Lancelot dagger collection, a shoe from Sir Lancelot’s steed, and her precious brick from Sir Lancelot’s castle. She had tried to pack her Sir Lancelot first-aid kit and her Sir Lancelot beach towel. But alas! She could not squeeze in another item.
“How long does it take to reach the Royal Palace?” Wiglaf asked her.
“Many hours,” Erica said, pulling the mammoth wheeled trunk behind her. “Unless we take the shortcut through the Dark Forest.”
“Through the forest?” said Wiglaf uncertainly. He had never gone into the heart of the Dark Forest. Everyone knew it was full of strange creatures, fierce trolls, and crazy hermits.
“I’m for taking the shortcut,” said Janice. “It’ll be a fun adventure!”
“Et‘s-lay o-gay!” said Daisy.
Wiglaf could not believe his pig had just said, “Let’s go!” He was scared to take the shortcut. But if his pig was not afraid, how could he admit that he was?
“Are you sure, Daisy?” Wiglaf asked.
Daisy nodded. “Y-may egs-lay are-yay oo-tay ort-shay or-fay ong-lay alks-way.”
“What did she say?” asked Janice. “I don’t understand Pig Latin.”
“She said, ‘My legs are too short for long walks,’ ” Wiglaf told Janice.
“Forget it!” said Angus. “I shall not set foot in the creepy Dark Forest. We might run into the headless executioner. Or a gang of nasty elves. Or a monster!”
“Yet, if we take the shortcut,” Erica said, “we shall reach the palace by suppertime... cherry pie with whipping cream!”
“What are we waiting for?” cried Angus. He ran up the path, across the Stone Bridge, and into the forest.
The moment Wiglaf stepped into the Dark Forest, his heart began to beat faster. The light was dim, for the sun could not shine through the tangled branches overhead. Trees and bushes took on eerie shapes.
“Ughhh,” Erica grunted. “All these roots in the path make pulling my trunk very hard.”
“Let me have a turn,” said Janice. She took the trunk handle from Erica.
Just then Wiglaf spied a cave.
“Look, Erica!” he exclaimed. “Was that not Gorzil’s cave?”
“‘Twas!” exclaimed Erica. “That is where Wiggie and I slew a vicious dragon!” she told the others excitedly.
“Did you slash him and bash him?” asked Janice eagerly. She began whacking away at an imaginary dragon with her lance. “Take that, you scaly fiend!”
“Yes!” exclaimed Erica. “It was a terrible battle. Gorzil shot flames from his snout. He belched up red-hot lava. But at last I stabbed him in the gut, and that was the end of him. Right, Wiggie?”
“That is not exactly the way I remember it,” muttered Wiglaf. For in truth, he had been the one to slay the dragon.
Every dragon has a secret fatal weakness, and by accident, Wiglaf had discovered Gorzil‘s—bad jokes. He told Gorzil some of Fergus’s awful knock-knock jokes, and the dragon had laughed himself to death.
“Enough dillydallying,” said Angus. “Or we’ll miss supper.”
Erica took her trunk back from Janice. Then on they went, over rocks and roots, deeper and deeper into the Dark Forest.
“O-say ired-tay,” Daisy murmured.
“What did she say?” asked Janice.
“ ‘So tired,’ ” said Wiglaf.
“I wish I could understand you, Daisy,” Janice said. “Can you teach me Pig Latin?”
“All-yay ight-ray,” said Daisy happily.
“She’s saying ‘all right.’” said Wiglaf.
They all sat down on a log.
“Art-stay ith-way ames-nay, said Daisy.
“Huh?” said Janice.
“She said, ‘Start with names,’” Wiglaf explained.
Daisy pointed a hoof and said, “Anice-jay.”
“That’s me?” said Janice.
Wiglaf nodded. “Here is the trick. Say your name
Wiglaf stuck a long stick through the knot on his blanket so that he might carry it on his shoulder. His load was light, and he was glad.
Erica’s trunk was not so light. Along with her Sir Lancelot tapestry and her Sir Lancelot armor, she had packed her Sir Lancelot dagger collection, a shoe from Sir Lancelot’s steed, and her precious brick from Sir Lancelot’s castle. She had tried to pack her Sir Lancelot first-aid kit and her Sir Lancelot beach towel. But alas! She could not squeeze in another item.
“How long does it take to reach the Royal Palace?” Wiglaf asked her.
“Many hours,” Erica said, pulling the mammoth wheeled trunk behind her. “Unless we take the shortcut through the Dark Forest.”
“Through the forest?” said Wiglaf uncertainly. He had never gone into the heart of the Dark Forest. Everyone knew it was full of strange creatures, fierce trolls, and crazy hermits.
“I’m for taking the shortcut,” said Janice. “It’ll be a fun adventure!”
“Et‘s-lay o-gay!” said Daisy.
Wiglaf could not believe his pig had just said, “Let’s go!” He was scared to take the shortcut. But if his pig was not afraid, how could he admit that he was?
“Are you sure, Daisy?” Wiglaf asked.
Daisy nodded. “Y-may egs-lay are-yay oo-tay ort-shay or-fay ong-lay alks-way.”
“What did she say?” asked Janice. “I don’t understand Pig Latin.”
“She said, ‘My legs are too short for long walks,’ ” Wiglaf told Janice.
“Forget it!” said Angus. “I shall not set foot in the creepy Dark Forest. We might run into the headless executioner. Or a gang of nasty elves. Or a monster!”
“Yet, if we take the shortcut,” Erica said, “we shall reach the palace by suppertime... cherry pie with whipping cream!”
“What are we waiting for?” cried Angus. He ran up the path, across the Stone Bridge, and into the forest.
The moment Wiglaf stepped into the Dark Forest, his heart began to beat faster. The light was dim, for the sun could not shine through the tangled branches overhead. Trees and bushes took on eerie shapes.
“Ughhh,” Erica grunted. “All these roots in the path make pulling my trunk very hard.”
“Let me have a turn,” said Janice. She took the trunk handle from Erica.
Just then Wiglaf spied a cave.
“Look, Erica!” he exclaimed. “Was that not Gorzil’s cave?”
“‘Twas!” exclaimed Erica. “That is where Wiggie and I slew a vicious dragon!” she told the others excitedly.
“Did you slash him and bash him?” asked Janice eagerly. She began whacking away at an imaginary dragon with her lance. “Take that, you scaly fiend!”
“Yes!” exclaimed Erica. “It was a terrible battle. Gorzil shot flames from his snout. He belched up red-hot lava. But at last I stabbed him in the gut, and that was the end of him. Right, Wiggie?”
“That is not exactly the way I remember it,” muttered Wiglaf. For in truth, he had been the one to slay the dragon.
Every dragon has a secret fatal weakness, and by accident, Wiglaf had discovered Gorzil‘s—bad jokes. He told Gorzil some of Fergus’s awful knock-knock jokes, and the dragon had laughed himself to death.
“Enough dillydallying,” said Angus. “Or we’ll miss supper.”
Erica took her trunk back from Janice. Then on they went, over rocks and roots, deeper and deeper into the Dark Forest.
“O-say ired-tay,” Daisy murmured.
“What did she say?” asked Janice.
“ ‘So tired,’ ” said Wiglaf.
“I wish I could understand you, Daisy,” Janice said. “Can you teach me Pig Latin?”
“All-yay ight-ray,” said Daisy happily.
“She’s saying ‘all right.’” said Wiglaf.
They all sat down on a log.
“Art-stay ith-way ames-nay, said Daisy.
“Huh?” said Janice.
“She said, ‘Start with names,’” Wiglaf explained.
Daisy pointed a hoof and said, “Anice-jay.”
“That’s me?” said Janice.
Wiglaf nodded. “Here is the trick. Say your name
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